


symbol of my undying love

by marzipan (orphan_account)



Series: vampcroft??? [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, vampcroft crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 00:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14965298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/marzipan
Summary: @free-floating-mushroom said:  Supernatural Creature AU where Jim and Mycroft are both vampires and once in a while they’ll send each other severed limbs to show their undying (heh) love.not quite that, but close





	symbol of my undying love

Mycroft’s secret gets spilled at the most inopportune of times. 

He’s sitting in the interrogation room across from criminal kingpin Jim Moriarty when an errant light bulb flickers on, just for a few seconds, but it’s enough that the glass wall to the side of them is fully illuminated with the perfect mirror image of Moriarty at the table, sitting across from…no one.

Moriarty’s gaze drifts to the wall without care, at first, then pauses as he realizes what he’s seeing. His expression is one of confusion, then disbelief, then, at Mycroft’s carefully expressionless mask, wild glee. 

“Oh.  _Ohhh!”_ Moriarty exhales, jubilant. He practically squeals before he shares his conclusion.

“You have  _no reflection_ ,” Moriarty breathes out. He laughs, Looking back and forth between the now-dimmed mirror and Mycroft Holmes, though there is no reflective surface to be seen any more.

“Trick of the light,” Mycroft says in a very dry tone.

“Oh no, no I know what I saw,” Moriarty replies.

“No one will believe you,” Mycroft says.

“No one  _has to_ ,” Moriarty says, in the manically excited way of a person who has nothing to gain or lose and is all in for their pure, personal entertainment.

-

Moriarty crosses his arms as much as the cuffs and chains will allow and leans forward over the table.

“I always  _knew_  there were other, other,” he makes a dismissive gesture with one hand, “the supernatural, whatever you want to call them.”

“So. What are you?” he asks.

Mycroft purses his lips. “I’m not sure you understand how an interrogation works, Mr. Moriarty.”

Moriarty kicks out violently at that, jerking the manacles and not getting his foot far enough to actually hit anything.

“Oh  _forget_ the  _game_ ,  _Mr. Holmes_ ,” he snarls. “I’ve made the discovery of a lifetime here, you think I’m just going to let the matter go?”

Quick as a fox, his mood turns from anger to childish excitement. He taps incessantly on the table and then grins up at him.

“So, what are you. Vampire? Fairy?”

-

Five weeks later, a courier leaves a Styrofoam box on Mycroft’s doorstep, and he has a sinking feeling as he brings it indoors and sets it on the dining table. The note taped to the top (JM XOXOXO) is giveaway enough that it will be horrendous but harmless. 

With a suitably damned expression, Mycroft gingerly lifts the lid off the ice box. And promptly reaches into his pocket for his phone.

“Oh,” Jim (he’s Jim now, might as well be) breathes, without Mycroft even having to greet him. “Did you get my gift?”

“Are you mocking me?” Mycroft asks in a very flat voice.

“What, isn’t it romantic?” Jim asks, faux-hurt coloring his tone.

Inside the box are six human hearts, on sticks, wrapped in pink cellophane in a semblance of a bouquet.

“There are six still, unbeating hearts, each skewered through with what might pass for as a stake. Romantic? I don’t suppose so,” Mycroft says.

“We- _ll_ ,” Jim says, “I considered a dozen but they are a bit bulkier than roses are, I thought this would be better.”

“Are you making fun of my lack of cardiovascular activity, Jim?” Mycroft asks. 

“No! I wouldn’t dream of it!” Jim says, but he’s laughing. “Take it as a symbol of my undying–”

Mycroft hangs up on him.


End file.
